


A Day in the Sun in Polished Plate Armor

by Onehelluvapilot



Series: Tumblr prompt fics [35]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Awesome Gwen (Merlin), Fainting, Gen, Heat Stroke, Hurt Lancelot (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Protective Gwen (Merlin), Tournaments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27670210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Summary: Holding a tournament in midsummer might not have been the best idea, since plate armor functions as a bit of a solar oven, and Lancelot pays the price for this decision.
Relationships: Gwen & Lancelot (Merlin)
Series: Tumblr prompt fics [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922554
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	A Day in the Sun in Polished Plate Armor

**Author's Note:**

> Gareth in this story comes from GywnDuLac's Stand by Me series, which I recommend highly

Armor was a lot hotter than Lancelot had been expecting before he became a knight. The padded gambeson for one was a lot thicker than the open-necked shirts he preferred to wear, and though the breeze could pass easily through chainmail, it added another layer to weigh him and make the heat feel more oppressive. The worst, though, was plate armor. Fortunately, he didn't have to wear it often, just during tournaments, jousts, and missions where a proper battle was expected or strength was valued highly above stealth or speed, and those were rare. Unfortunately, Uther had always held a midsummer tournament, and Arthur had continued the tradition.

Lancelot was fighting to win, at least until he went up against Arthur. They'd been in opposite brackets though, so they wouldn't fight until the final. It was currently semifinals, so everyone but four contestants had been eliminated and allowed to change out of their armor. Lance jealously watched Gwaine, Leon, and Percival, who had already been eliminated, lounging in the spectators stands. He was distinctly not jealous of Elyan and Arthur, who fought in the heat and the dust of the arena. Their movements were more sluggish than they usually would have been for such elite warriors, likely due to both the heat and exhaustion of having fought so many rounds. Finally, Elyan slipped in the dust and was disarmed. Arthur helped him to his feet after the match was declared and the king and his brother-in-law leaned on each other's shoulders as they made their way to the tournament tent to rest.

Lancelot took a deep breath of the stiflingly hot air, the last easy one before he closed the visor on his helmet and it got even hotter, and made his way onto the field opposite Sir Gareth. The young knight, another commoner appointed to the Round Table a few years after the others, was small for a soldier, but supremely agile and quick on his feet. There was a reason he had managed to defeat Percival in his first round and make it to the semifinals. Lance's only consolation was that he too was unused to wearing a full set of armor and hopefully would be weighed down by it, as well as sluggish from the heat. He must've been, since the slightly older and larger knight somehow won the match, though his memories of doing so were very hazy. Lancelot felt like he was fighting the sun, which beat down on them ferociously despite it being late afternoon, as much or more than his actual opponent. Barely remembering to clasp hands with Gareth after the match, and it wasn't like him to forget his manners, he stumbled over to his own tournament tent. Getting into the shade should have been a relief, but what little breeze had been present outside was nonexistent within the fabric walls. 

He wasn't actually sure that he wasn't hallucinating due to the heat when he saw Gwen standing and smiling at him. She wore a lightweight dress that Lancelot would have switched into in a heartbeat if he could have.

"Why are you…" he started to ask, his words slurring as his mouth struggled to keep up with his already slowed brain. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but shouldn't you be on the other side with your brother and husband?"

"They have Merlin over there," she replied. "Since you refuse to have a servant or even let a page help you at tournaments, I thought I would come check in on you. Is the heat affecting you badly?"

He shook his head, though it made him a little dizzy. "I'm fine." He took a step towards her, and the bed where he could sit down, however briefly, before the final match. Unlocking his knees, however, turned out to be a mistake as he found himself sprawled on the rug floor with the sharp parts of his armor digging into him before he could move even a foot forwards. He distantly registered Gwen's shout of surprise and concern, but it sounded very far away past the ringing in his ears and the pounding of his headache.

"Lancelot, stay awake," she demanded, rolling him onto his back and shaking him roughly. "Are you hurt? Where?"

"N-no," he managed to stutter out. "Just hot." He hissed in pain when he tried to shift a little and the burning edge of his shin guard touched the skin below his knee where there was a rip in his gambeson. Gwen seemed unbothered by it as she quickly began unbuckling his armor and taking it off him. She had been a blacksmith, he remembered, so it made sense that she could withstand the hot metal more than him. It was a weight off his chest, literally, when she tore his breastplate off and he felt like he could finally breathe. Sort of.

"Let me get you some water," she said, jumping back to her feet and rushing across the tent to where a pitcher of water, which even had chunks of ice in it from the royal vaults, sat on a small table. She poured him a cup and walked as quickly as she could without spilling it back to him. His hair was sweaty under her hand as she helped him sit up and drink it. Suddenly nauseous, he tried to turn his head away but Gwen insisted. And, well, he'd never been able to deny her anything, so he let his lips part a little and the water trickle down his throat. It was so dry that the first swallow was painful, but after that he gulped it down as his thirst returned with a vengeance. The cup was empty far too quickly, and he whined for more pitifully.

"I'll get more," Gwen immediately said, and this time she brought over the whole pitcher. After helping him drink another two cups, she poured the remaining ice out into a cloth. Quickly tying it off, she placed the freezing bundle under the back of his neck. Lancelot groaned at the sudden relief that it brought to his headache. He would have been embarrassed by how needy he was being if he wasn't actually in so much need. Though he still felt overheated, he didn't think he was going to pass out from being too warm anymore, especially as the tent flap opened and a breeze wafted in.

"Lance, are you ready for-" Arthur's voice asked before abruptly cutting off.

"The final is going to have to be postponed," Gwen said, settling the comparatively cool skin of her fingers against Lancelot's overheated forehead. "Go get Merlin." The breeze disappeared as the tent flap closed but it was only a minute before it opened again, this time allowing entry for both the king and his servant. Merlin had remarkably cold fingers, which Lance usually spent all winter trying to warm up between his own hands, but today he was grateful for the brief touches of his cool fingers against skin as he unbuckled and stripped off the knight's gambeson and placed cool wet cloths under his arms and knees and around his torso. Those were the same locations where hot compresses would be placed on someone who became too cold, since there were arteries that passed through them.

Gradually, Lancelot's whole body began to edge back from the feeling of being both numb and on fire. His head still ached fiercely, but it was manageable. With the weakness in his limbs, though, there was little chance that he would be getting up from rug floor of the tent anytime soon.

"You should just rest," Arthur agreed when he voiced this sentiment. "We'll postpone the final until tomorrow, or however long it takes for you to be recovered."

Lancelot nodded. "Maybe next tournament," he suggested, "While the knights are waiting to fight, you can have them sit in the shade."

"I think that," Gwen replied with a fond smile, "Is a very good idea."


End file.
